Short Shorts
by 3cheersforidiots
Summary: Aka "The Under 500 Club". Here you can read my drabbles, word count is strictly under 500/writing, with different characters/pairings/genres/whatever. Current: White - Luna Lovegood Angst (kind of)
1. 1: Down

**A/N: Warnings: Unnecessary alcohol consumption, depressive themes.**

The thing about depression is that you can't do anything to stop it. Once you get sucked in the feelings of angst, worthlessness, and just generally being miserable, you can't come out completely. There will always be a next time when you lose all hope. It always comes back to you from time to time.

And sometimes the pain is unbearable. And we all have different ways of dealing with it. We're all addicted to something that takes the pain away. Some hurt themselves, some write about it, others just drink.

 _It's a temporary solution_ , the man thought as he gulped down another shot. _But it works surprisingly effectively._

 **Gringotts Prompt Bank:**

 **Genre specific quotes: "We're all addicted to something that takes the pain away."**

 **Feelings/Emotions: Miserable**

 **Level-up competition: Level 1/Stage 1: Write something no more than 25 words over the minimum (100 words)**

 **The If You Dare Challenge: 510 (hope)**


	2. 2: Beach

**Hopscotch:** **"Of course I can roll over." (dialogue), beat (word), bow (word), dressing gown (object), lip bite (action)**

 **Gringotts:**

 **Verbs: ask, answer, rummage, defend, have, exclaim, put, lift, argue, insist, make, sigh, examine, smile, drag**

 **Nouns: bag, bow, ribbon, mirror, sand**

* * *

"Why did you bring a dressing gown?" Ginny asked from Hermione, while she was rummaging through the contents of her bag. "We're on a beach, for Merlin's sake!"

"I wasn't the one who put it in." she defended herself. "It must have been Ron. He's still having problems with understanding muggle habits."

"But that's not even the problem! 'Mione, this thing here looks horrendous." she exclaimed while she pulled out her bikini. "I swear the next time he goes shopping, I won't let him near any of the second-hand shops. Now, I think you should put this on." she set her own swimsuit on a nearby bench, while she lifted up another one.

The bikini she was holding had little white bows and ribbons all over the black fabric it was made of.

There was no way in hell Hermione was going to wear it in public.

"I'm not putting that on." she stated whole she eyed the cloth up and down. "Just no."

"But Hermione, this looks sexy and classy at the same time! I think it's the perfect one for you." Ginny answered.

"There are ribbons on it. It makes me look like I'm seven, or something." Hermione argued.

"Come on, you can give it a try." Ginny insisted. "And besides, you don't have much of a choice anyway."

"You beat me to it." Hermione sighed.

A few minutes later, Hermione stepped out of the dressing cabin in the swimsuit Ginny had given to her, and she glimpsed at the mirror that was standing in front of her. He bit her lip as she examined herself, not entirely satisfied with her reflection.

"See, I told you it was going to look awesome on you!" the redhead smiled, then she suddenly grabbed her friend's arm, and dragged her along. "Now come on, the boys are waiting for us, and I think they're going mad. I heard Ron say "Of course I can roll over!" a few minutes ago, and I think if we don't stop them, they're going to blow up the whole beach." she giggled as they stepped out onto the sand.


	3. 3: Being a Keeper

**Speed Drabble: Hermione/Oliver Wood, feeling, touch**

* * *

Hermione Granger never liked Quidditch that much. She thought the sport itself was dangerous, and she couldn't understand why would anybody enjoy watching it, let alone playing it.

And though no one could convince her otherwise, she had some moments when her feelings towards the sport faltered for a bit. Whenever she locked her eyes on the Captain and Keeper of the Gryffindor Team during a match against another house, and he caught her gaze as well, those were the moments when she reconsidered her choices.

After all, guarding the hoops must have been hard, and it must have taken loads of time to master this position. And – her inner voice often told her from the back of her mind -, those muscles must have come from those countless hours of practice.

It was only after these matches, while the two of them could enjoy each other's touches, when Hermione thought she might take up a liking for Quidditch, after all.


	4. A Slightly Unconventional Birthday Party

**A/N: Welp, I guess my speed writing skills need a bit of polishing.**

 **Speed Drabble: Hermione/Fred Weasley, kangaroo, rolling**

* * *

Hermione was sitting in her dorm, in the Gryffindor Tower. It was the 19th of September, her birthday, which fortunately happened to be on a Saturday.

She wanted to spend her day in the library, because in her mind, there was simply no better to celebrate being 16 years old, but all her plans failed when she was ushered back up the stairs by none other than Fred Weasley.

She was a bit suspicious, since at the time, it was only 8 o'clock in the morning, and if there was one thing she knew about the Weasleys, it was that they never woke up until noon if they didn't have to.

But there was only so much she could do, so she waited in her room for hours, though sometimes Ginny came up to check on her. She even brought breakfast, then lunch, but whenever Hermione asked her about what's going on in the Common Room, she either shrugged and mumbled "You'll see soon enough.", or she outright ignore her question.

It was late in the afternoon, when Ginny once again knocked on her door, and when Hermione opened up the door after letting out an exasperated sigh, the redhead quickly cornered her a shoved some kind of dress in her hands, and ordered her to put it on right there, while she would do her hair. Hermione was too shocked to even start complaining, so she just did what she was told, though she still wondered just what in Merlin's name were Fred planning.

Her questions were answered when she stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room.

She could describe the sight she saw with one word. Chaos. There were a throng of people in the room, most of them Gryffindors, though Hermione suspected that there were guests from other houses as well. On the walls were banners saying "Happy 16th Birthday Hermione!", and she could swear she saw a kangaroo hopping around at some point.

Before Hermione could even comprehend what was going on, a certain Weasley twin appeared right next to her, with his notorious grin plastered over his face.

"So, Hermione, do you like this little party George and I threw together?" he asked. She took another peek at the Common Room before slowly turning to face the boy. "Oh, and by the way, happy birthday."

"Um, thanks." was all she could muster. "Say, Fred, why would you bother with setting all this up? Not that I don't appreciate it, just curious."

"Anything for our favourite brainiac." he answered, followed by a wink. "Don't worry, there's no alcohol. I made sure of that. So, what do you say? I say we get this party rolling!"

"I guess." Hermione let out a defeated sigh. "Oh, one more thing. Where did you get the kangaroo from?"


	5. 5: Wand Making 101

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:** Alchemy Assignment #2 – Write about the creation of something.

 _ **Gringotts:**_

 **Verbs:** shall, polish, use, produce, place, connect, attach, admit, create, determine, enhance, oozed

 **Adjectives:** left, wooden, powerful, close, curious, skilled, correct, sufficient, magical

 **Nouns** : recipe, consequence, instructions, heart, unicorn, hair, phoenix, feather, dragon, effect, poison

* * *

 _This recipe shall not be passed onto incapable hands, otherwise, the consequences will be disastrous. Only the most skilled wizards and witches shall create wands while following these instructions._

 _The principles of wand making:_

 _Only the finest wood shall be made into a wand. It shall be no younger than 300 years, and no older than a thousand. Its crust shall be polished before being transfigured into its final form._

 _Before the transfiguration, however, the wood shall be broken into two halves, and a hollow shall be cut into it, in order to preserve a place for the core of the wand._

 _While transforming the wood, the wandmaker shall use the_ Figura Mutatio _charm, to which it shall take a shape of its own._

 _The core of the wand is not specified. Anything that is close to the customer's heart is sufficient enough to make a powerful core, albeit it is known that wands with unicorn hair, phoenix feather or dragon heartstring as their core tend produce the most powerful of wands._

 _Before placing the core inside the hollow, it shall be put in the Angel's Trumpet Draught for no more and no less than 87 minutes. (Note: While the Angel's Trumpet Draught is one of the most dreadful poisons known to mankind, it is used because of its effect on wand cores, since it enhances the core's magical abilities)_

 _The core then shall be placed inside the hollow inside the wand. While it would seem as a negligible factor, it is important to place the core inside the correct half. If it is placed within the half closer to the wandmaker's left hand, the wand would only be sufficient for left-handed wizards and witches, while the same applies for placing the core in the right half._

 _When placed inside the wand, the core shall attach itself to the wooden material, thus confirming its place._

 _Then, when connecting the two halves, the wand shall glow, and it shall glow only if it knows it has a place in the magical world. The glow will determine if the wand will ever be used, or if it should be considered a failure._

 _After successfully sticking the wand together, the wandmaker shall cast a_ Magicae Farcio _and a_ Dominus Requaero _, as it will enhance the wand's magical abilities, and it will then force it to search for its rightful Master._

* * *

Garrick Ollivander scanned through the parchment before placing the freshly made wand into a small, black box. It was his final creation or the day. He had to admit that today, some _particularly intriguing_ things happened.

A phoenix, who gave him not one, but two feather? And on top of that, he could almost feel the magic oozing out of both. He supposed these wands were powerful indeed.

"Curious. Certainly curious." he mumbled as he locked his shop for the day.


	6. 6: Present

**Speed Drabble:** James/Alice, coconut, "It's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

 _ **Gringotts**_ **:**

 **Magical Objects:** Remembrall

 **Pairings:** James/Alice

 **Nouns:** bottle, birthday

 **Adjectives:** important

* * *

It was Alice's 18th birthday, and – although she really didn't want them to – the Marauders felt like it was their responsibility to throw her the best of parties known to mankind.

And this was how she found herself sitting on the couch of Sirius' apartment, with a firewhiskey in her hand. She didn't even like alcohol, but James assured her that it would cause no harm to live a bit. Even Frank agreed with him on that.

And so, currently, she was eyeing the open bottle, still with mild scepticism. She did that, up until said Marauder plopped down next to her, holding something that looked suspiciously a present, wrapped in coconut-patterned wrapping paper. She quirked one of her eyebrows, and gazed at James questioningly.

"What is that?" she pointed at the object.

"I got you a present." the boy replied with one of his well-known grins. "And the party is not quite raging yet, so I thought now would be a good time to give it to you."

Alice sighed, then once again fixed her eyes on the wrapping paper.

"Coconuts? Really?" she said. "I don't know where you got that idea from."

"It's a bit extreme, isn't it?" James answered, defeated. "Well, I heard you like coconut from a certain someone." he exclaimed, while he not-so-privately glanced at Lily, who was chatting with standing a few metres away, currently chatting with a few other girls Alice didn't recognize. "But, back to the point, why don't you open it?"

Alice then quickly reached out and grabbed the package. Inside, she found a Remembrall, which was now glowing white, indicating that she hadn't forgotten anything important.

"So, what do you think?" James inquired.

"Thanks." Alice answered with a huge smile plastered on her face. "I've always wanted one of these. How did you know?"

"As I said, I have some inside sources." James grinned. "I-just-got-an-awesome-present-from-an-equally-awesome-friend-hug?"

"Sure." she smiled and extended her arms.


	7. 7: Scribble

**Speed Drabble** : Hermione/Remus, lips, lonely

 _ **Gringotts:**_

 **Pairings** : Hermione/Remus

 **HP Locations** : Hogwarts Library

* * *

Fourteen years old Hermione Granger was sitting in the Hogwarts library, at her usual spot, surrounded by stacks of ancient books. She was alone in there, since nobody bothered to study when they could go to Hogsmeade instead, but it didn't bother her that much. She was used to being lonely.

She was seemingly scribbling something, her eyebrows were furrowed, her lips were purse in sheer concentration as she wrote.

A laic person would have thought she was preparing for her exam, or that she was doing some essay she wasn't supposed to hand in until at least a week later, but this time, they would have been wrong.

They would have been wrong, because the girl was only concentrating on craving the perfect curves of her letters into the piece of parchment.

It was a few minutes later, when she looked up from her timetable that she noticed what she had written.

 _RJL._

These three letter were scattered all around the paper, some quickly scribbled, some neatly written. It was all over the place.

When Hermione realized what she had done, her face turned an interesting shade of red, and she, for once, was glad that no one ever took a second glance at the library on the weekends.


	8. 8: The Souls of the Taken

**A/N: Well, this one was born because I've read a very interesting Time Travel fic and Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality recently. I have weird inspirations.**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** : Alchemy Assignment #4 – Write about immortality.

 **Ultimate Chocolate Frog Card Club** : (Gold) Phineas Nigellus Black – Write about someone unpopular.

 **The If You Dare Challenge** : 512 (fear)

 _ **Gringotts:**_

 **Compound Words** : themselves

 **Homophones** : waste; their

 **Prepositions** : above, except

 **Verbs** : loom, invent, describe, beat, stop, avoid, cheat, waste, ignore, succeed, wish, destroy, welcome

 **Adjectives** : afraid, regular, precious, immortal, open, inevitable

 **Nouns** : satisfaction, universe, concept, eternity, phenomenon, destiny

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

There was a cloaked figure looming above the castle of Hogwarts. For a laic, it would have seemed like it was just a regular Dementor, but said laic wouldn't have seen the figure, and they wouldn't have been afraid of the thing they couldn't see either.

And the reason for that was that the cloaked figure was none other than Death itself.

Some thought Death was just a concept, a concept that was invented to describe the phenomenon when one's heart stopped beating for eternity. Some came closer to the truth, believing that Death must have had some kind of corporeal form, that Death itself was a manifestation of something deeper.

Actually, Death themselves didn't know which was true. They knew one thing and one thing only, that they were feared, and definitely not liked, though they themselves never asked for any of that.

From time to time, one would try to cheat them, they would try to avoid Death for as long as they could, but in the end, Death would always be there to end their lives. They would waste their precious life on trying to live longer, ignoring destiny.

Some tried to be immortal, except, those people never succeeded, because they forgot the first and most important rule of the universe.

You're only immortal if you were born that way. Only if you were immortal from the start. And anyone, who wishes to live for eternity but is not destined to do so, will not. Because everything that is made artificially can be destroyed by humankind as well. And so, the only immortal being was Death themselves.

Death didn't particularly like their job. No one liked them, no one welcomed them with open arms – not even those who claimed to be – but still, it was inevitable.

They never actually liked taking people's souls, because they acknowledged that life was indeed precious. It was something that humans valued greatly; most of the time the valued it over everything, and sometimes, Death wished they could experience this thing as well. Some other times though, they were glad that they couldn't ever die.

But sometimes, they would find some kind of satisfaction in taking one's soul, and this was one of those moments.

Death had been waiting for this soul for so long, ever since it was first split into little pieces. They got it back, piece by piece, and today was the day they received the last part, today was the day they would finally send him into the Otherworld.

They watched as the boy, who was once marked as a wannabe immortal as well, defeated Death's longest enemy, and it was only then, that they felt like everything in the universe was in its place.


	9. 9: Notes and Strings

**A/N: My headcanon is that Albus is actually a Slytherin, but Hufflepuff was so fitting here. But that's just my mere opinion.**

 **Word count: 333 (woo!)**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:** Charms Assignment #6 – Write about a unique way to feel relaxed and refreshed (extra prompt used: (word) dunce)

 **Candy from the Trolley:** Sugared Butterfly Wings – prompts – learned, lonely, stop

 **Ultimate Chocolate Frog Card Club** : (Bronze) Hestia Jones – Write about wizards using muggle items or technology.

* * *

Some people would write novels, some people would cook, and some people would get some sleep if they wanted to relax, but not Albus Potter.

Not many people knew this fact about him, but on his lonely days, when he was feeling tired of being called a dunce by nearly everyone at Hogwarts – since his grades were not the best by any means – he would retreat back to his corner in his dorm over the Hufflepuff Common Room, shuffle through his magically extended trunk and pull out his acoustic guitar, his picks and his guitar tuner, and would sit down and start composing melodies no one but him would hear.

He learned to play the guitar sometime in the summer break between his second and third year at Hogwarts, after being influenced by a couple of muggle bands he had been listening to. And ever since, no day passed without him having at least half an hour to strum his guitar. For him, it was the ultimate form of relaxation, the music soothed his eardrums, and it made him forget the stress that he had to suffer from every day.

Not many people knew about this; he only ever told about it to his siblings, Lily and James, because he feared that if word ever got out, he would be looked down upon, and that nobody would understand why was he so fascinated with something so… muggle, when there was a whole world of magic waiting for him to venture through it.

Sometimes, it was a bit too much, and he liked to get away from the magical world by playing his guitar. Maybe it was hard to understand for anybody else, but it made perfect sense for him and he didn't need anything else. He would not stop playing, because it made him feel better, it made him feel happier and it washed away the worries that were eating his good mood away.

Playing his acoustic guitar made Albus Potter feel alive.


	10. 10: Deception

**Word count. 340**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** : Care of Magical Creatures Assignment #6 – Write about somebody who values galleons over everything else.

 **Ultimate Chocolate Frog Card Club:** (Gold) Ug the Unreliable – Write about someone conning others for money.

 **Candy from the Trolley** : Red Liquorice Wand/prompts – yielding, bottle, steam

* * *

On the corner of Knockturn Alley, a man stood with the cloak of his robes over his head, holding a simmering bottle and a little purse in his hand.

A strange purple-y coloured steam was coming out of the bottle, clouding the air in front of the man slightly.

To the right of the man, another shadow popped into existence suddenly. This other man was holding a heavy-looking satchel in his hand. While he strolled over to the man with the bottle, he accidentally shook his satchel, to which it let out very audible clattering sounds, which indicated that he had indeed brought an extensive amount of galleons with him.

"Did you bring the money I asked for?" the man with the bottle croaked when the other cloaked figure neared him. "You know the drill; no money, no deal."

"I got the money," the other figure raised the satchel in front of both men's eyes. "You shouldn't take this whole money thing too seriously. People are starting to suspect you're selling fake products for massive amounts of galleons, you should get back to selling actual potions for a bit. No matter how much you're yielding with it, it's not worth it if you then get stuck in Azkaban."

"Don't tell me what to do," the man with the simmering potion sneered. "Just give me the money and leave me alone."

"You're a strange man, Lestrange," the man with the satchel shook his head. "Here you go," he plopped the galleons into the other man's hand, who then handed him the bottle with a reluctant motion. "But don't come to me if the Aurors want to lock you up. Being a Death Eater wasn't enough, right?"

"Don't pretend like you're not one," the man named Lestrange snapped back. "At least I make a living for myself."

"Yes, with deceiving people for gold; which is the most important thing, according to you, right?" the other man commented. "Well, see you then."

And with that, took a turn and disappeared into the night.


	11. 11: Goldy

**Word count: 197**

 **Hopscotch** : camera (object) dog (creature), dragon (word), Hogwarts (location), "I think I broke my finger." (dialogue)

 **Ultimate Chocolate Frog Card Club** : (Bonus) Hugo Weasley – Write about Hugo Weasley.

* * *

"Who's the good doggie?" Hugo cooed as he scratched his Golden Retriever behind the ear. "You are, Goldy, right?"

"Um, Hugo?" Rose interrupted his snuggling session with the dog. "Shouldn't you be over there," she pointed at the far end of the Great Hall, where various students in graduation hats were stalling as they waited to have a photograph taken of them by the magical camera at the front of the line, "waiting for the cameraman to take a picture of you?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Hugo dabbed. "I haven't seen Goldy in ages anyway. One has totake care of their dog, right?"

"You can asphyxiate him after you have your photo taken as well," Rose pointed out.

"Don't be such a harpy," Hugo rolled his eyes. "Or… Should I say dragon? Your Chinese horoscope is Dragon, after all."

"Um, no, it's Dog," Rose furrowed her eyebrows. "But that's beside the point. Come," she said as she grabbed her brother by the hand and pulled him towards the line.

"I think I broke my finger," Hugo exclaimed. "And who will take care of Goldy while I'm away?"

"Mum and Dad are still here," Rose sighed. "And don't exaggerate."


	12. 12: Concerto

**A/N: This one-shot is partly inspired by a Drarry I've read recently (in which Draco plays the cello as well), and partly by those few years when I'd learned cello. Enjoy.**

 **Word count: 420 (BLAZE IT LMAO)**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:** Arithmancy Assignment #8 – For this assignment, I want you to write me a story which shows someone playing a musical instrument (bonus character: Draco Malfoy)

* * *

Pleasant sounds of music were coming from inside the room; music that was played by a cello; music that was sad in one moment and energizing in the next; music that was enjoyable for all ears.

Inside sat a blond-haired boy, looking to be around the age of eighteen, bow in one hand while the other drifted across the strings of the cello.

His eyes were closed; he was completely in some kind of a trance only by playing his instrument. This magic broke only when he finished the piece and slowly opened his eyes, squinting slightly as his sight adjusted to the bright lighting.

"How was it?" he spoke after what seemed like hours from the woman sitting across the room in a comfortable-looking armchair.

"You haven't lost your touch," she answered. "But it was slightly rusty. I may have to inform your teacher, if you want to start learning again."

"No, I won't need that, mother," Draco pursed his lips. "I was merely practicing."

"If I were you, I wouldn't let those ten years of learning to go to waste," Narcissa shook her head. "You've been learning to play ever since you were eight; you should take it up again."

"I don't want to study with a teacher," Draco admitted. "It brings back memories I don't want to remember. I'm sure there are things you would rather not do again, mostly because of the war's influence."

Narcissa sighed. "There indeed are. However, I don't want you to give up, you have a talent for this."

"I know," Draco half-smiled faintly. "Maybe I'll keep doing it as a hobby. I do like playing the cello, contrary to what most people may believe."

"I know you do," Narcissa replied absentmindedly. "I'm glad you successfully found something that can sooth you. I was starting to get worried, because you've been downcast ever since the Battle."

"So have you," Draco pointed out. Narcissa shot him a dark look, but he was persistent and continued. "You're my mother, and I'm a Slytherin, just like you. I can see these things on your face, whether you like it or not."

"Sometimes I do forget just how well I have taught you," Narcissa mused. "Don't you want to play another piece?"

"I may," Draco nodded. "Which one do you want?"

"How about Dvorak's Cello Concerto?" Narcissa suggested. "You know that composition is my favourite."

"Yes, I know," Draco nodded while letting out a small smirk.

And the sound of music filled the halls once again.


	13. 13: Like Brother, Like Sister

**A/N: This was born at a particularly uninteresting Hungarian Literature class. And I'm crap at writing endings. Enjoy.**

 **Word count: 449**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** : Myths and Legends Assignment #8/Task 2 – Write about a brother or sister who is evil or cruel to their sibling.

* * *

 _"You should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son."_

 _Mama – My Chemical Romance_

 _~oOo~_

Alecto was sitting on her queen-sized bed, wrapped in the deafening silence that had been present ever since her brother left the room. Her hands were still shaking slightly as she locked her eyes on the closed entrance of her bedroom, willing it to stay locked for as long as her energy could muster.

She didn't want anybody to disturb her; not after what happened – not now, not ever. Especially not her brother.

A chill ran down her spine at the thought of Amycus, and she felt a light tremble running through her hands again. She tried to block the memories from flooding the forefront of her mind again, but it was just too much for her to handle, and she unceremoniously slumped down onto the ground, burying her head in her hands as she let out an involuntary sob, succumbing to the flashbacks from earlier that day.

 _~oOo~_

" _I… I just can't," Alecto whispered, fright evident in her voice. "I don't know why. Nobody ever told me why."_

" _You're a disgrace," Amycus spat, his eyes cold as he gave his sister a scornful look. "Your only task was to produce an heir of pure blood, and now you're saying you're incapable of doing that as well?"_

" _Please, Amycus," Alecto muttered. "Father has already given me a rant about keeping the pureblood line and about my… problem. I cannot do a thing about it; I couldn't, even if I wanted to. I don't need your disdain, brother."_

 _The slap came hard and unexpected, reddening Alecto's cheek almost instantly. She winced and felt tears dwelling in her eyes but said nothing; she knew it would've been of no use._

" _That is the least you deserve," Amycus sneered. "For being useless."_

" _I'm sorry," Alecto spoke but was silenced by a wave of her brother's hand._

" _Apologies are worth nothing," he said. "You better learn that."_

 _And soon, the door clicked behind his back after he rushed out of the room, leaving the mess that was Alecto behind._

~oOo~

Alecto choked back another sob as she gathered herself from up from the floor. She did not want to alert her father or brother; they would do no more than call her worthless and weak again. She was not too keen on talking to her mother either; she wouldn't give her moral support anyway. She would just give her a hard gaze and would tell her that Amycus was right to do what he did.

The physical pain had long since been subdued, but the emotional scar of her twin being so cruel left Alecto wounded.


	14. 14: Home, Sweet Home

**Word count: 421**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:** History of Magic Assignment #9 – Time Period Task - Write story taking place during Voldemort's first reign of terror.

 **Ultimate Chocolate Frog Card Club** : (Gold) Molly Weasley – Write about Molly Weasley.

* * *

"Mummy," a little red-headed boy sauntered down the stairs of the Burrow and stopped right in front of his mother, who was still cleaning up the dishes, "is Daddy home yet?"

"No, Bill, he's still at work," Molly answered, glancing at the clock that still had one of its hour hands on the little 'Work' sign. "You should go back to your room and sleep; I promise you that he'll be back by morning."

"But what if he gets captured by those… bad guys? With the black cloaks and scary masks, I mean," Bill said, worry evident in his tone. "I don't want Daddy to die."

"He won't die," Molly shook her head, cradling the seven-year-old boy in her arms after stopping the running water of the sink. "Death Eaters wouldn't attack us."

"Why wouldn't they? Uncle Gideon told me that they'd do anything to stop our kind," Bill argued.

"Because…" Molly trailed off. She could never be sure that Arthur wouldn't get attacked, not at times like this, not in the middle of a war, but she would go to greater lengths to convince her children that everything's going to be alright. They needed more protection than she did; they didn't need to know about how hopeless the future seemed for wizardkind. "Because they attack non-magic folks. They think that we, wizards and witches are better because we have magic, but of course, they're wrong."

"So we're safe because we can do magic?" Bill furrowed his eyebrows. "But that doesn't make sense. Aren't muggles supposed to be the same as us, just without magic?"

"Yes, they are," Molly nodded, a small smile playing on her lips, which morphed into a much more serious expression a moment later, "but some people think otherwise. And that's what your Uncle Gideon, among others, is fighting against."

"Doesn't that make them targets, though?" Bill asked. "The bad guys would surely want to hurt whoever's against them, right?"

"They can defend themselves; you shouldn't worry about it, dear," Molly soothed the boy. "Now go and sleep, okay?"

Bill sighed. "Okay… But promise me that Daddy will be fine, okay?"

"I promise," Molly said, putting her son down the floor. Soon, the boy was out of her sight, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom.

She glanced at the magical clock again, which still had one of its hands pointed at the 'Work' sign. She sighed exasperatedly, turning back to the sink to continue washing up. It was going to a long night, she supposed.


	15. 15: Should Have

**Word count: 339**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** : Herbology Assignment #9 – Write about someone regretting a death (extra prompts used: (word) gravestone, (genre) angst).

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It was a weird feeling, looking at the gravestone of her deceased best friend, clutching the beloved hair bow that she used to wear all the time. Before she died, that is.

Parvati bit her lip, not quite knowing what to say or what to do. She came here to 'give' Lavender back whatever she left behind after the Battle, but there was a sudden force that was holding the Indian girl from simply placing the bow on the tombstone and leaving quietly.

 _She shouldn't have died_ , a little voice in her head nudged Parvati. _You should've helped her; you shouldn't have let her die this young,_ it said.

It was true; Parvati should have been of greater help for her best friend. She had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, however, she couldn't help but feel disappointed in herself. There was so much she had wanted to tell her; there was so much she had planned on doing with her. Now that she was gone, though, she couldn't help but feel like it was all her fault.

She twirled her fingers around the silky material of the bow. It was soft, and it reminded her of the fluffy pillows they had had while in Hogwarts. It brought up memories she didn't want to relive, especially not then.

She regretted not being there for Lavender in her last moments, for being too distracted to help her – maybe the moral support wouldn't have helped her, but at least she could've said that she tried. It was something she knew she had no chance of redeeming now, but she couldn't help but feel a peculiar stabbing pain in her chest at the thought of not being able to turn back time.

Parvati laid the bow down on the cold hard stone. There wasn't much more to add, however she looked at it.

It was probably for the best if she sealed it all up at the far end of her mind. Maybe it would make things more bearable.


	16. 16: Waking Up As A Cat

**Word count: 477**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** : Arithmancy Assignment #9 – Write a Cat AU (character chosen: Harry Potter).

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It was going to be another, rather unexceptional, day.

Scratch that; the moment Harry woke up; he knew something was… off. As soon as he opened his eyelids, he noticed that something was distinctively different concerning his sight, and smelling, and hearing, and…. His overall self-consciousness. All of this was off.

He yawned in hopes of getting a clearer mind, and was surprised when he glimpsed not a human hand – like he was supposed to – but a paw in front of his opened mouth.

Then, like a ton of particularly massive bricks, the reason why he felt off all of a sudden hit him.

He was turned into an animal. Glancing his body up and down, he noted that he had been turned into a cat in particular. A little, furry pet with jet black fur – much like his actual hair – and soft looking paws with sharpened claws.

Shaken by the realization, Harry jumped out – well, off – the bed, and in an instant tumbled down as he reached the ground, not being used to walking on four legs – and four tiny legs, at that.

After he somehow figured out how to stand up and stretched his… limbs, Harry sauntered over to Ron's bunk bed and was almost halfway through when a sudden smell hit him made him stagger backwards. He wasn't sure what it was – and at that point, he would rather have not gone and investigated it – until he remembered something Hermione had told him a couple of nights back.

Cats were supposed to have heightened senses of smell and hearing while their perception of colour was duller – especially the various shades of red, which finally answered the question why the whole dormitory seemed much more… grey when Harry had woken up.

In the end, though, none of that helped Harry's case, at all. He was stuck being a cat for no reason – although he suspected that the tremendous amount of sweets and those bottles of butterbeer and firewhiskey the night before may have had something to do in connection with the fact that Harry was now a cat – and he had no way of communicating this towards other humanoids.

Well, maybe not humanoids, the thought rushed through him with the pace of a raging hurricane, but maybe a fellow cat.

And with this sudden decision he made, Harry strutted out of his dormitory as quickly as he could – which was only mildly paced, since he was still quite unsure as to how he was supposed to move all four of his legs at once – and went on a hunt for the cat he – and Ron, particularly – despised. Crookshanks.

He was not sure if he would find any answers in the ugly cat once he located him, but with no other choices left for him, Harry made up his mind and went ahead, according to plan.


	17. 17: Late Afternoon Latte

**A/N: Coffee shop AU, because we don't have enough of those. Also, I can carry on with my Golden Trio era shenanigans freely. Enjoy.**

 **Word count 361**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** : June Funfair Event/The Dunk Tank – Written for WolfWinks (Grace), (pairing) Harry/Neville (pre-slash if you squint), (AU) muggle

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** : June Funfair Event/Balloon Pop

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Neville was sitting behind a small wooden table, his eyes fixated on the bartender who was surging back and forth behind the counter. His knuckles were white from gripping the cup of coffee so tight, although, he would not have noticed even if he happened to spill his coffee; the other boy was too much of a distraction.

He wondered how to approach the bartender without coming off as overly forced while still remaining somewhat impressive. Truth be told, he really did suck at getting to know new people because of his unintended social awkwardness, which he cursed himself for more often than not. Problem was, he really did want to talk with the boy, who was handing out two cups of paper-clad coffee to a pair of girls around the same age. The girls giggled, not even trying to hide their opinion, while Neville sighed in exasperation.

He didn't quite catch as the jet black haired bartender furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Neville gave up his compulsive ogling of the boy after that, instead opting for occasionally taking a sip of his latte while he forced his mind to search for alternatives. A few painfully long minutes passed before a girl, looking to be a few years younger than Neville himself approached the boy with a slip of paper in her hand.

"Um, hi," she said. "See that guy over there?" She pointed at the very barkeeper Neville had been philosophising about. Neville nodded, inwardly eager to find out what was going on. "He told me to give you this note, and that if you have an answer, you should go and tell him yourself. That's it."

"O-okay," the boy answered, his eyes focused on the paper, "thanks."

"No problem." The girl shrugged and scurried away just as quickly as she came.

Neville smoothened out the paper, his hand shaking slightly. He was trying to mask his excitement, and although he supposed he must have failed horribly, he couldn't help but not care.

After reading the message sent to him, Neville's eyes bulged slightly.

 _Hey, do you want to have a coffee together after we close down? —_ the note said.


	18. 18: Okay

**Written for Poke as a present for the Advent Calendar event (sorry, it's really short).**

 **Hope you enjoy :)**

 **Word count: 320**

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"Do you like snow?" Luna asked from the fiery-haired girl standing next to her. Over the course of the past few months, the two of them had taken up this habit—sneaking out to the Astronomy Tower during lunch break, as per an escape from the rigid, horrid world that awaited them inside the castle. At the very least, no cries of agony would reach the tower during these meetings, so they could feel moderately safely for at least a little while.

"I suppose. It's pretty when it falls," came the answer from the redhead, who seemed to be just as much in thought as Luna was. "Also, when it's not falling, it's fun to have a snowball fight." A small grin made its way onto Ginny's face. Luna supposed the question must have reminded the other girl of a fond memory.

"I've never been to a snowball fight," Luna wondered aloud, "but I'm sure it's fun."

"Really?" Ginny perked up. "You've never had a snowball fight? I used to do it all the time while Fred and George were still at Hogwarts. You should try it too."

"Maybe," Luna replied. She couldn't help the thought that had surfaced in her mind just then. What if she wasn't going to live to see another winter?

She pushed the thought away as quick as it came. She and Ginny never talked about the war and whatever was going on outside during their time spent at the Astronomy Tower. It was a safe haven, where they didn't have to carry their worries and responsibilities with themselves. As such, Luna buried her worries for the time being. She could think about them later.

She was aware that Ginny must have known something was up, but she was glad when the redhead spoke up again.

"About that, are you going home for the winter break?"

Because for the time being, everything would be okay.


	19. 19: I Sure Hope So

**Written for MaryandMerlin for the Advent Calendar event.**

 **Hope you enjoy :)**

 **Word count:** 191

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"So, how does it feel like?" Albus nudged Hugo with his elbow, a playful smile on his lips as the two of them neared the newlywed pair standing in front of the Ministry.

"How what feels like?" Hugo replied, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Having a Malfoy in the family, of course." Albus pointed at the pair in front of them. "Quite a catch Rose got herself, isn't it?"

"It's your family as well," Hugo pointed out, to which Albus smiled even wider. "Look, if she's happy, I'm happy. Besides, Scorpius is a good guy, and he's got the brains not to hurt Rose."

"He better does." Albus nodded, although it was only a half-serious remark. From his field of vision, he could see Scorpius whispering something to Rose between two greetings, to which Rose giggled as though she was still a high-school girl. Albus had no idea what the whispering could have been about, but he supposed he was better off not knowing either. "I think they're going to be okay, though."

Hugo nodded as he took another step and shook Scorpius' extended hand as per a congratulation. "I sure hope so."


	20. 20: Maybe Later

**Written for Lexi for the Advent Calendar event.**

 **Hope you enjoy :)**

 **Word count: 385**

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"Oh, what is it that you've got here?" Rose plopped down next to Lily on one of the comfy couches of the Gryffindor Common Room. Lily, holding a miniature package in her hand, had been smiling uncontrollably until her cousin neared her, but as soon as she heard Rose's voice, her expression molded into that of indifference. "And who is it from?"

"It's from an acquaintance of mine," Lily said curtly, "and I don't know what it is yet."

In hindsight, she realised that maybe she should have retreated to her dorm to open what she knew very well contained her birthday present from Scorpius, but at present, that was the least of her concerns. What _was_ concerning her, however, was finding a way to get Rose to leave her alone.

"Then why don't you open it?" Rose pressed on. "It seems suspiciously like a birthday present to me, and you haven't told me about a friend that has to send their presents in a letter."

"Ah, yeah," replied Lily. "I guess I haven't," she added, and left the topic at that. It was a futile wish, but she hoped Rose wouldn't ask further questions.

"So, anything you want to tell me about?"

"Not particularly." Lily shook her head. Rose raised an eyebrow, an 'I-know-you-actually-do-so-out-with-it' look, to which Lily sighed, ran a hand through her hair, and gripped the package just a little bit tighter. "Maybe later."

Rose's questioning look didn't leave her face, but she nodded. As soon as she did, Lily sprinted off towards her dorm, momentarily relieved that she wouldn't have to jump into a long and tiresome explanation about how she and Scorpius had become unlikely friends during an ominous Transfigurations class.

As she entered her dorm, she made sure to cast the necessary warding charms so that nobody would bother her, and ripped the package she had gotten open. From it fell a paper—a letter, Lily supposed—and a bracelet with a butterfly charm on it.

Lily couldn't help but grin. She loved butterflies, and of course Scorpius would be the one to remember that. She placed the bracelet around her wrist, and just stared at it.

Now, she only had to figure out how and when to explain the story behind her present to Rose.


	21. 21: Remember?

**Written for WritingBlock for the Advent Calendar event. I know it's not the most original, but I hope you like it :)**

 **Word count: 279**

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"Do you remember the first time you shopped at Diagon Alley?" Hermione asked of the boy standing next to her as the two of them stepped out onto the streets of the once bustling shopping district of the wizarding world. Most of the street, as of right now, was debris and dust, which gave Hermione an eerie—or rather, a bittersweet feeling. "I remember being so excited about Flourish and Blotts."

Harry gave her a half-smile, which she took as a good sign. She hadn't seen him smile ever since the Battle happened, so she was glad for even nuances like this. "Yeah, I remember too. So many people wanted to have my autograph, it's baffling." Then, he sighed. "I don't know why I wanted to see this place all of a sudden, but thanks for accompanying me."

"Anytime." Hermione nodded. In the last couple of months, Harry would ask her to come with him to the most random of places. These instances included visiting his old, nowadays empty home at Privet Drive, the Shrieking Shack, and once, they even went to the Forest of Dean. Hermione never asked why they were visiting these places, but she guessed it had to do with Harry's process of recovery. And if her going with Harry meant the latter would be able to face what happened in the war sooner, she would gladly do it without a word of complaint.

"Shall we go?" Harry asked all of a sudden, extending his hand towards Hermione. The girl nodded, and the two of them stepped further into the ruins, with hands clasped.

 _Eventually,_ Hermione thought, _everyone and everything would have to be fixed anyway._


	22. 22: I Missed You More Than I Should Have

**Written for Shannon as part of the Advent Calendar event. Hope you enjoy :)**

 **Word count: 431**

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Four years.

It'd been that long since Hermione last saw his… best friend? She supposed she could call Harry her best friend, but the term felt misplaced somehow in her mind, as if she was holding onto the title only because of a sudden bout of obstinacy.

Either way, she decided that now wasn't the time to be contemplating about whether it was morally correct to label someone she hadn't seen for years as her 'best friend,' without first consulting said friend beforehand. No, she was not going to think about that. She was going to think happy thoughts—or at least neutral thoughts—because she was definitely not going to weep in front of Harry. At least, not unless she wept joyous tears.

It was then that she caught a glimpse of the all too familiar jet black mess that was Harry's hair as he pulled his suitcase through the crowd of the train station.

And all of a sudden, it became excruciatingly hard to hold back something that would've sounded something like between a sob and a yelp. A wide variety of emotions overcame Hermione's conscious, so instead of pulling a cliché, 'old-friends-rushing-meet-in-the-middle' run, she waited as patiently as her mind let her.

As soon as Harry neared her, however, it didn't take half a moment for her to wrap both of her arms around him.

There were a number of things she wanted to tell him about that she had experienced throughout the past four years. There were a number of things she wanted to inquire about as well. There were a number of things that had been left unsaid when Harry departed not long after the Battle of Hogwarts. In that moment, though, none of that mattered. She had no clue what kind of greeting Harry had expected—since he had requested for her specifically to be there when arrived—but this was what he was going to get. She wanted to relish in the feeling of having Harry by her side once again, so this once, she was going to indulge herself.

"I probably missed you more than I should have," she said finally, not eager to let go completely, just in case Harry turned around and left for another four years for Merlin knows what reason. She heard Harry laugh; Hermione noticed with mild surprise that his voice had gotten considerably lower.

"I missed you too, Hermione," he replied. "Do you want to grab a coffee?"

Hermione nodded, and grabbed the man's hand as the two of them neared the exit of the train station.


	23. 23: White

**Written for Sophy (The Crownless Queen) as part of the Advent Calendar event. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Word count: 245**

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Luna Lovegood wasn't particularly fond of snow. Sure, she thought snow looked majestic when untouched and pure and shiny, but it bore no fond memories for her. Quite the contrary, the whiteness of snow had always felt somewhat bitter for her, though she would never admit such a thing.

Sometimes, people like Ginny or Hermione would ask Luna about her inherent dislike for snow, and with a dazed expression, she would reply with something along the lines of 'I never got to enjoy it with someone else.' And she never lied when she told them those things. Being alone for the better part of her life was something she'd gotten used to, but it was also something she didn't want to think about if it wasn't necessary.

Having people whom she could call friends was, on one hand, a relief. After all, she had something to look forward to, someone to call if she ever needed help or company, and it opened up a whole new way of thinking for her. On the other hand, however, it made the time before she became friend with a lot of these people all the more unbearable.

From time to time, it made her wonder whether it was worth it, and by the end of her musings, she would never find a definite answer. And at times like these, when the first snow came, she would always be reminded of that loneliness she never wanted to experience again.


End file.
